


Searching for What Is Lost

by Lady_Clara



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Dorms, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Guilt, Hopeful Ending, In-line With Canon, Introspection, M/M, Not Really Character Death, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Reminiscing, Scars, non-sexual nudity, the shipping aspect is mostly implicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26465911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Clara/pseuds/Lady_Clara
Summary: In wartime, feeling hollow and lost, Dimitri finds himself in Dedue’s old dormitory searching for anything tangible left of the fallen friend he misses more than his heart can bear.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Dedue Molinaro, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro
Kudos: 18





	Searching for What Is Lost

**Author's Note:**

> First and foremost, please note that this fic contains spoilers for the Azure Moon route of the game. 
> 
> As much as I love reading and writing feel-good stories, I started wondering how Dimitri might have felt post-timeskip being back at Garreg Mach where he has to walk by Dedue’s old dorm room to get from place to place. The emotions it would have produced to know his friend should be right behind that door but isn’t because Dimitri couldn’t protect him. Thus, an introspective angst fic was born!
> 
> I wasn’t sure how to tag for character death since this is set during the post-timeskip war phase five years after Dimitri’s escape from imprisonment. It centers on Dimitri reminiscing about Dedue, who he thinks is dead, but technically isn’t. Please be aware there’s a fair bit of angst ahead, but it has a hopeful ending because I’m incapable of writing sad endings, and if you know how the Azure Moon route goes as long as you complete Dedue’s paralogue, you know Dimitri and Dedue are reunited eventually :)

In the pouring rain with nothing but pale moonlight to illuminate his already weakened vision, Dimitri finds himself standing in front of a familiar door. It looks exactly like all the other doors in this row of dormitories on Garreg Mach’s campus, but this one cuts deep every time he passes it by. Behind this door is the room that belonged to Dedue.

_Belonged_ , past tense. Dimitri has dug himself into such a low point that it seems impossible to sink any further, but remembering that everything his friend was, everything he did and stood for is all past tense squeezes his heart into even greater hollowness.

Dedue sacrificed himself so Dimitri could live. Was he not aware Dimitri’s soul would die along with him?

Fragments are all Dimitri has been able to remember of the last time he saw Dedue. The longer he stares at the door, however, the more the memories of that day five years ago come flooding back into his mind like poison. He was in Fhirdiad’s dungeons set to be executed on Cornelia’s command until Dedue arrived to break him out. Dimitri’s heart had filled with joy seeing Dedue’s face again. He thought the worst had happened while they were apart. But he was not granted the time to savor their reunion – he was swiftly removed from the dungeons by Kingdom soldiers and immediately met with resistance by Imperial guards. With his strength diminished from imprisonment, it was not long before he passed out in the middle of the ensuing fight. The strongest memory he has of that day is coming back to consciousness surrounded by the concerned faces of soldiers giving him the news that Dedue commanded they carry him to safety while he held off the rest of the Empire’s forces. Alone.

An axe to the chest would have been more merciful than the raw pain that came with learning Dedue had been left behind to die in his place.

Standing in the rain at the doorstep of Dedue’s old dorm room now, he wonders if maybe that day had all been contrived by his imagination. Most things seem to be. There is a golden light of hope buried deep within that tells him maybe, just maybe, if he turns the doorknob, his friend will be there on the other side to greet him. They would be able to have their heartfelt reunion, just the two of them. Dimitri would throw his arms around Dedue and never let him go.

“Dedue…” His voice is drowned out by the rain, but his breath is still visible in the cold night air.

He turns the knob - _Dedue's hand was once where mine is now_ , Dimitri thinks - and swings the door open. It produces an ugly creaking sound from years of disuse. He ignores it and frantically sweeps his eye across the room in front of him for a sign of life. Dedue could be sitting at his desk reading a botany guide or at the foot of his bed arranging his armor like he used to.

Alas, the dorm room is as empty as Dimitri feels.

He stands motionless at the threshold, greeted by nothing but dust particles swirling in the moonlit air. If he stares long enough, maybe Dedue will materialize in front of him, alive and well, beckoning Dimitri to come in. The vision of it is clear enough that Dimitri does indeed walk inside. He closes the door and locks it on the off chance that another person is roaming the grounds of Garreg Mach at this absurd hour on this bleak night. He does not wish to be found by anyone other than this room’s previous owner.

Everything around him is silent save for the pattering of rain outside and the sound of water hitting the floor beneath him. It takes some time before he realizes the source is the water dripping off his armor. He can’t bear to disgrace Dedue’s room further by tracking in mud and water. He’s tarnishing it enough just by his presence.

Piece by piece, he removes the armor he rarely takes off nowadays and piles it unceremoniously by the door. He has never needed it around Dedue anyway. A shiver runs through him once he’s done, though he does not know if it is from the cool temperature that has been brought in by the rain or the reality that this room is the only thing he has left of Dedue.

_You will fall ill if you stand idle in wet clothes,_ is what Dedue would say if he were here.

Obeying the imagined suggestion of a man who is no longer alive because of him, Dimitri peels off rain-soaked underclothes and throws them next to his armor until he is standing naked in the middle of his fallen friend’s old dormitory.

The man he desperately wishes will come back might not be here, but this very room could hold the last concrete connections he has to Dedue. Items he owned, books he read, mementos he kept – they could be here. Dimitri will not leave these four walls until he finds every remaining piece. Solid things he can display in Dedue’s memory so no one ever forgets him. Solid things he can cling to for hope.

He looks around for places to search. The desk catches his eye first. Dust sticks to his feet as he makes his way across the room towards it. He hesitates, wondering if it would be too invasive to open the desk drawers. But he must. If there is any tangible evidence of Dedue within them, he has to.

The scratchy sound of the first drawer being pulled open seems to mock him. With great disappointment, it reveals no contents. He moves on to the next drawer, and the one below it, hoping to find a quill Dedue used or notes he wrote during academy lectures with his exquisite handwriting. But every drawer turns up empty.

He abandons the desk and looks around for something else. The wardrobe – perhaps there will be some remnants in there. A scarf Dedue knit, or his academy uniform. Maybe an old pair of boots or gardening shears.

Dimitri walks over to it and places his shaky hands on the knobs. His heart leaps as he pulls them open, but the interior contains only cobwebs and dust. He scans it again just to be sure, but traces of Dedue are nowhere to be found.

Everything is empty. The small golden light of hope that brought him to Dedue’s doorstep dims more and more.

His eye then jumps to the bed. He wanders towards it and runs a hand over the dusty blue blanket, threads having worn somewhat thinner over the years, and slowly folds it back.

There he finds it. A lingering trace. On the sheets covering the mattress is the imprint someone’s body must have formed. Dimitri traces the outline – a side sleeper, tall, muscular.

The silhouette is unmistakably Dedue’s.

Dimitri saw him form the habit of sleeping on his side when they started sharing tents on missions. Dedue assured him if he slept that way, his broad shoulders would form a wall to shield Dimitri from potential intruders.

_You must allow me to protect you, too,_ Dimitri would say in his head.

Never one to fall asleep easily, he would sometimes stare at Dedue’s shoulders through the night on those missions, longing to reach out and smooth a comforting hand across his back, longing to tell him everything would be okay, that they would both live to see a better world one day.

Dimitri is glad he never spoke the words aloud. They would have ended up as lies.

He stares at the mattress’s imprint. Before he can think through the action, he throws himself onto the bed, coughing as layers of dust are sent up into the air. He pays it no mind. All he can focus on is twisting himself until he is settled into the groove that Dedue formed.

His body jolts. The silhouette feels so real.

It feels like Dedue.

He aligns himself with the dip where Dedue’s shoulders must have gone, aligns his legs where Dedue’s legs must have been positioned. He burrows himself into the creases of the sheets so he can feel it all. This is the closest he and Dedue will get to a reunion in this lifetime. He wishes the sheets would just absorb him entirely so they could be joined forever.

“Dedue…” He digs his fingers next to the pillow where Dedue’s hands would have rested. “If you were here right now, I would tell you how much I cherish you. I would tell you that every day hereafter.”

His lower lip starts to tremble.

“I’m sorry I never told you while I had the chance. Perhaps I will get the opportunity when I join you in the next world, though I do not think I am worthy enough to end up where you are.”

He pulls the blue blanket over himself. The softness of the threads should feel warm over his bare skin, but his body has numbed from the war in this continent and the war in his mind enough that all he can feel is guilt. Nevertheless, he tangles his legs into the blanket until he is fully enveloped.

“I would give anything to have you back,” Dimitri says softly. “I would give anything to see to it that you would live a happy life after this wretched war.”

He takes Dedue’s pillow out from under his head and hugs it to his chest.

“But I failed you, Dedue. I swore to protect you the way you swore to protect me, and I failed you.” His voice cracks on the last two words.

In the time following Dedue’s sacrifice, despair was replaced with rage, and tears were seen as an indulgence Dimitri would not allow himself. Now, his whole body shakes as he sobs years of swallowed grief into the pillow that belonged to a dear friend who was left for dead. His tears won’t bring Dedue back, he knows this, but there is nothing else he can do but cry in sorrow, in anger, in regret, in guilt, and mourn a loss that has left him with a permanently aching heart.

Envisioning the post-war life they could have had together cracks his heart open even more. They could have continued healing together, could have taken quiet walks arm-in-arm through Fhirdiad’s gardens after council meetings, could have enjoyed each other’s company over cups of Dedue’s favorite ginger tea. But this is a future that will never be a reality. It has been snatched from him.

At some point, the tears stop flowing. Dimitri has lost track of time. Perhaps he has been crying for ten minutes. Perhaps an hour, maybe two. His sense of time has been thrown off entirely these past five years.

No matter. Staying this long in Dedue’s bed is far too selfish. He refuses to ruin the outline in the mattress with his own body.

Besides, having this kind of connection to Dedue is a consolation he does not believe he deserves.

It takes effort to stand again. His body is exhausted and drained from grief. He touches the imprint in the mattress one last time before folding the blanket back over it and turning away from the bed, feeling dejected all over again.

It takes an accidental glance into the dingy mirror on the wall to stop him dead in his tracks. It is in its reflection that he finds what he supposes could be counted as a visible remnant of Dedue’s existence: the deep-set scars on his back. The ones he got from protecting Dedue all those years ago. The bumps they form on his wet skin gleam in the moonlight seeping through the window.

The old scars have been joined by legions of new scars – ones that have cropped up in the past five years especially – but Dimitri will always remember which marks in particular are from the day he met Dedue. He would gladly let a thousand more scars join them if it meant he could have protected Dedue again.

But he couldn’t.

He is only grateful he still has those scars from nine years ago. They are perhaps the most tangible evidence he has left of the one he loved.

_I hope they never fade,_ he thinks.

He can’t stand to look at his reflection any longer. The monster staring back has a dead eye and a hollow countenance. He may as well be a ghost. He turns away from the mirror and decides it’s time to leave, having spent too long sullying up this room with his presence.

Wet clothes go back on and wet armor follows. He settles a hand on the doorknob, but before he turns it, he takes one last look at the room – one last-ditch effort to see if Dedue will appear – but is met with nothing. He opens the door and leaves. The sound of it closing is too harsh and too final.

There he is, back on the doorstep he walks by far too often on these grounds. He will have to pass it again and again. It cannot be avoided, much like his broken heart.

He turns away from the closed door and stares out onto the path in front of him in a haze. He does not know where his feet are going to carry him next. Maybe he’ll go to the cathedral and stare out into the rubble until the next battle is to be fought. Maybe he’ll stand outside in the rain until it washes him clean of his sins. Either way, it is of no consequence. Dedue is not with him.

Some time passes before he notices it’s no longer raining. Abruptly, the wind picks up outside the row of dormitories. It had been a biting, howling thing earlier in the night when Dimitri first ventured out, but it feels…gentle now. Comforting. A contrast to the sharp pain that lives inside his head and offers him no reprieve. It tickles his eyelashes and flutters across his face like a caress.

“All is not lost.”

Dimitri spins around in search of the voice he swears he just heard the wind sweep in. It is an ungodly hour. There is no one around him. It is more common than not for him to hear the voices of the dead these days, but this voice did not belong to his father or Glenn or the usual ghosts who roam his mind.

It sounded like it belonged to…

He repeats in his head what he heard. It was unmistakably Dedue’s voice. He has not forgotten what it sounded like, and never will.

Dimitri comes to an important realization, then: Dedue is forever in his heart. It may not be a tangible keepsake – one he can hold in his hands or clutch to his chest – but it is a powerful one that cannot be destroyed or taken from him. It is that golden light of hope, once dimmed, now beginning to grow back in his heart. It shines faintly, but it is enough.

Perhaps this is the discovery fate had in store for him when he found himself spirited away to Dedue’s old doorstep. The discovery that in his heart, he can carry Dedue with him and keep his memory alive wherever he goes.

He puts a hand over his breastplate. Even though he is covered in armor from the neck down, he can sense that his heart is still beating beneath it, is still human somehow. “I will keep you safe in here, Dedue,” he whispers.

Dedue will always be a part of him, irreplaceable and cherished in his heart. He will be with Dimitri in battle, he will be with Dimitri on the throne when the war ends, and he will be with Dimitri in old age when he closes his eyes for the last time. For that, Dimitri is grateful. And for that, Dimitri will protect himself so Dedue may always live on in his beating heart. 


End file.
